Conflicted

I like to consider myself the consummate Devil's Advocate. I pride myself in seeing and empathizing with (mostly) any side to (mostly) any situation. Which is why I'm saddened and horrified and kind of get it when it comes to this story.

I saw this story yesterday on The Huffington Post, and can't get it out of my head.

There's no doubt that bullying is an epidemic in this country. Kids have always been assholes (not all of them of course, but certainly you know one or two), and with the sheer quantity of information available these days, we all have increased access to how hard it is to be on the receiving end of the asshol-y kid in school.

We're now all aware that those who were bullied as children were not experiencing a one-off situation. Growing up prior to this information age just prevented us all from realizing the scope of this issue. Unfortunately, kindness is not a subject on the standardized tests. Perhaps if it was, we'd be able to prove that kids are failing.

So, back to this haunting, confusing story. To summarize, the subject of this story is a fourteen-year-old girl who was given free plastic surgery after being teased relentlessly at school for having "big ears". The surgery was funded by a non-profit devoted to paying for such a thing. This story states she was teased at school because her ears stuck out, but also received a nose job and some work on her chin--for good measure? I'm not sure the purpose of the latter two "fixes."

The teenager is looking forward to the new school year for (what is likely) the first time ever, and loves her new look. I love that for her. And I went to grade school (in the 90's) with kids who had had their ears pinned back. I remember hearing about this as a child—and not because they had been teased, but because it was just a thing their parents chose for them. So for that reason, I'm not too opposed to the ear pinning. I know it's a thing that kids sometimes get done.

And I love that a fourteen-year-old girl (because who can't feel for a teenager uncomfortable in her own skin) has seemingly found the confidence that is more often than not missing in adolescence. But. BUT, to throw in a nose job and chin reconstruction at fourteen? Because someone made her feel bad about her looks? What is the lesson there? That if people are mean to you, you should totally give in to whatever they don't like about you. And most importantly, if you're prettier than them, you win. The prettiest always wins. Like, duh.

And those bullies? They didn't learn anything here. They will still be mean. If they're no longer mean to the subject of this story, I hope she doesn't forget all the pain they caused her, and befriend them. And I sure hope this non-profit is around for the next victim of these same bullies. Because that kindness that was in short supply? No plastic surgeon can implant that.

Apparently, this girl is required to attend counseling to go along with the surgery, and that seems like a good idea, but I still worry about the long-term effects. Any outsider looking in sees a different side of the story, but I can see her parents' point-of-view. Their daughter is in pain, and hates school, and hates her looks, and maybe hates herself, and here is someone that can help (ssemingly). For free. That would be a hard thing at which to thumb your nose--regardless of its shape and size.

Nothing is easy about being a fourteen-year-old girl. There are a lot of sides to this story. I'm conflicted about it all, but of course, I don't know these people, and no one asked me for my opinion. So I'll agonize from a distance, hope for the best for all involved, and be kinder. Because it's never to late to study up on that.

Pick Me!

In most cases, it's the anticipation that is the most fun. Recently, I had three interviews for a job that I convinced myself would be great. In the anticipation stage, I pictured myself driving to this business every day. I pictured myself eating lunch with the potential co-workers. I knew what pictures would hang in my cubicle.

This is kind of the specialty around here. As frequent movers, my husband and I would hear whispers of an opportunity in his field, and we'd get whimsical about making that new place our home. We'd turn to Craigslist to search for rentals, and fall into internet holes exploring neighborhoods and quirks of the various towns.

Is this weird? It's actually a bit of a hobby in our home. If it's weird, I am kidding. We totally don't do that.

Ahem.

So, this company is huge and the hiring timeline is foggy. I was holding out for this until I was offered a (not exciting, albeit paying) position at a different company. The anticipation had to end.

I e-mailed the recruiter I had been working with and asked the status, letting her know another opportunity had come up. She told me to go for it. Turns out, another candidate would drive to the business every day, would eat lunch with the co-workers, and would hang pictures of my husband and dog in her cubicle.

That information hurt. It's a blow to the ego to be told someone else was chosen over me. This type-A would prefer to be the first chosen for kickball, the debate team, bee-keeping class. Whatever. I don't care. Just pick me. And like me.

But rising up under my ego's black eye is a feeling I wasn't quite expecting. It's relief.

Truth be told, that job wasn't the dream job I created in the anticipation phase. It would have been boring, and I would have settled into it for longer than I should have. Nevertheless, the rejection stings, and the perception shift from the perfection I created in my mind, to the reality of taking the less exciting job is stark.

But that aside, I'm excited. I accepted this job with no preconceptions that it should be a dream job. It'll allow me to collect a paycheck, without forcing myself to make this a career. I can investigate what I love under the guise of hobbies or volunteer work. If everything turned out the way I had anticipated just last week, the horizon wouldn't be so exciting.

That's the thing about anticipation. There's no accounting for reality.

When Things Look Up, Don't Forget to Look Down

I like to keep things positive. If I wasn't such a lush, I would consider myself a "glass half full" kind of person, but truth be told, the glass is usually empty. And not in an angsty teen kind of way. Because let's celebrate! And drink to that! And to anything, really. I'm probably drunk right now.

But I digress. Currently, I'm unemployed and bored. Finding motivation is hard, and the "Apply Here" tab is a black hole that drains my time and sucks out my soul. But I am trying to enjoy my "time off." I'm getting to know my new city and becoming more intimately acquainted with Kardashian re-runs than I ever thought possible. [Spoiler alert: They fight. They are insane. They make up in the end. Then Kanye West sacrifices them all on an alter he has erected in honor of himself.]

So this little break from the real world is a good thing! Case in point: I spend a lot of time with my dog. No! It's not pathetic! I am OBSESSED with this guy. We are lucky enough to live next to an "Agricutural Center" which features this great little trail where we walk the dog.

I was feeling especially positive on our morning walk, smiling and annoyingly greeting all my fellow hikers with an overdramatic welcome. My Jack Johnson Pandora station was playing all my favorite songs. Our oppressively hot June was taking a break for a more seasonably comfortable temperature.

"What a great day," I actually said out loud to Handsome, said dog, because I am that irritating and starved for conversation buddies. "I'd like to remember this day through the foggy, light-altered filter of Instagram," I also may have said.

Example:



Then, the energy force in the Universe that counterbalances those who annoy the shit out of everyone else stepped in. "Enough is enough," I imagine the Force said. "I was going to let you slide until you thumbs-upped the 86th version of Banana Pancakes. You are an adult for chrissakes."

While I was trotting along in happy oblivion, snapping cell phone pictures of trees and rocks that I will find completely useless in a more cynical moment, I stepped in a giant pile of horse crap.

Proof:



Noted. The lesson? Ehh. Does there always have to be a lesson? I don't know, but if so, perhaps it's that sometimes the sun shines on your face while a horse shits on your shoes. It's all about the balance.